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eVERGREEN

on March 03, 2020

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Everything I’ve ever seen is dying and evergreen

a cOLLECTION oF sMALL tHINGS

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wELCOME

My name is Michael Jon DeMo. I am an aspiring author. I want to welcome you to my new blog site. I hope you enjoy it. I will be writing on the site when I can, when I feel like it or when someone might ask me too. I am presently working on a few ideas for novels as well as a children's book. Please add me to your follow list. Tell your friends. I look forward to building relationships. I am using this blog to stretch my muscles and grow as a writer as well as keep in touch with society. If you have any comments, feel free to let me know. Thank you and come again.

wHAT the world needs now are the beatles

2012. The last year of our lives, so it is written. I think it is written. I haven't seen it written. I haven't seen it written in any calendar. I am sure others have put it down on paper, typed it into smart phones and have noted it down in their little black books that the world will stop soon. This is a sobering moment when you consider it. The end of the world? I like to believe that the world will go on like it always had, well, maybe not like it always had but it will go on. It seems like the world is a little down lately. The economy is slumping and people are out of work. A lot of people are out of work. Those who are lucky enough to still be working are working at a feverish pace, with less people to work with they take on more. The position of strength stands with the rich and the powerful. I am here to propose a challenge to the world. I want someone to find me The Beatles! Let me explain. I recently received a gift from a friend. It was (just about) the entire CD c...

tHE breeze

Anxiety is a leaf in the breeze At first glance, at first meeting It's a fear of the unknown What is this thing? Will it stop me? Will it hurt me? I've never seen such a thing before It's moving closer, blowing in a breeze, in a burst of wind It will fall into me and then what? What will become of me? My heart races. My fear grows. Surely it will smash into me and knock me down or worse But then, a strong breeze and it smacks into my hair, bouncing wildly off and beyond I felt but nothing Anxiety is a leaf in the breeze

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